


Welcome Home

by FallenKy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Sam Winchester, Bunker Hunters, Established Relationship, M/M, POV Outsider, Possessive Dean Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Top Dean Winchester, no sex so far but as always implied cause that's the only way I roll, that should be a tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-15 07:51:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18494593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenKy/pseuds/FallenKy
Summary: Say what you will about Dean Winchester, he makes a strong first impression. The hunters of the bunker don't know what to make of the strange man and the even stranger relationship with his brother when Dean shows up after being possessed by Micahel.





	1. Corey

**Corey**

Corey is still adjusting to this world and all its little quirks. The biggest one being the lack of angels flying around smiting everything and there’s not a single day he doesn’t wake up grateful for it.

Still, there are growing pains, he joined the rebellion with no military training and only a background as a sous chef in a small town restaurant. When Sam asked them if they wanted to stick around, join up the hunt in the bunker, he was a bit hesitant accounting for all that. But hey, kicking angel ass all these years and being pretty handy with a chef knife ended up being useful for wasting most of the fuckers that go bump in the night.

So he’s as happy as a universe hopping ex-resistance fighter can be here in this little bunker and with a guy like Sam leading them, he can’t help but feel pretty damn confident some days. He might not know all the lore but he’s ready and willing and Sam’s only ever a call away with some golden nugget on how to solve his current case.

Sam who’s been training all of them night and day, coming up with their safety check in system, and who allows them a place to call home after leaving the shell of their universe. The dude is everywhere at once and there’s not a single time he called with a problem that Sam couldn’t answer or reassure away. When Corey was laying in the middle of a national park bleeding out courtesy of a werewolf claw to the thigh he’d called Sam. Sam who’d stayed soothingly on the line, walking him through how to wrap the wound and keeping him away with easy conversation about his tentative relationship with Liz, another bunker refugee. He’d been happy to die like that, feeling safe and more importantly not alone with a helicopter spotlight had suddenly blinded him, flashing as two EMT’s dropped down to stabilize his leg. He still has no idea how Sam got the park rangers out to his location that fast and in a fucking helicopter.

There’s not a lot of good guys left out there but Sam’s the very best of all of them and Corey would fight anyone who says otherwise. Has done his fair share of fist throwing in certain roadhouses where the Winchester name is a bit too familiar.

So Corey thinks he’s got a pretty good idea of the dynamic around the bunker with Sam and what his place in it is. And then Dean comes back.

Coming back implies of course that he was there in the first place which, yeah okay maybe technically he lived in the bunker but never with how it is now. Dean was never a part of their little patchwork family and all Corey saw of him before the whole Michael shit show was the dude waltzing into camp with a bone chilling scowl that made everyone clear out of his path.

The guy seems like a real peach. Corey wants to say they were better off without the asshole but Sam came back to the bunker with his brother looking like he’d shed ten years of pain and suffering in the time he was gone. Not a single one of them has the guts to suggest that maybe Dean go his own way with how Sam’s all but whistling around the place.

He’d told the others in their little whispered conversations in the nights that followed that Dean would probably get gone himself. Because who the hell would want to hang around a military bunker full of people he doesn’t like and that share the same sentiment back? It was obvious the guy had some serious shit to deal with and here wasn’t the place if Corey had anything to say about it.

He’s quickly reminded that he does not.

One week, then two, then an entire month pass and Dean’s not going anywhere. He doesn’t even try and hang out or at least talk to any of them since they’re all sharing a fucking space together. No, Dean waltzes through the place like he owns it, barely giving any of them a second glance as he cooks in the kitchen, drinks beer in the map room, and props his feet up to read in the library like there’s not a single soul in sight instead of the rest of them trying to do work. 

“Sammy.”

Right. There’s one soul that Dean does see which is Sam, the proud owner of the second and final citizenship card in Bunker Dean Winchester.

Corey glances up from his takeaway noddles as Dean walks over and leans over Sam’s shoulder, practically boxing him into his seat in a way that makes Corey scrunch his nose.

“You save me anything?” Dean’s voice is rough and grainy, like sandpaper compared to Sam’s smooth tone and once again he wonders how the hell these two are related.

“You said you didn’t want any!” Sam rolls his eyes and Corey nods minutely, it always ridiculous the random shit that Dean demanded. He still holds out hope that maybe Sam himself will kick the guy out one day.

“I didn’t want any of the specials you were telling me, not nothing at all.” Dean reaches over then, grabbing Sam’s carton of fried rice and dumping a massive portion onto a paper plate. “Problem solved.”

Liz nudges him and he forces himself to look away, knowing he was probably glaring a bit harder then acceptable even if they all felt the same way about Dean.

“I know he’s an ass,” Liz murmurs, squeezing his arm affectionately. “but try not to let it get to you so much.”

“I don’t like him walking all over Sam.” He murmurs back, the steady level of the brother’s arguing across the table grating.

“No one does but we all have to live together and making a show about not liking him isn’t going to do you any favors.”

He knows she’s right but it still sucks. He’s always provided himself on standing up for Sam but when it counts he’s forced to sit back and watch his big brother bully him and it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

 …

“We’re going to be trying out a new system this month,” Sam announces the next week at a rare meeting when most of them are all together. “Our emergency system has been pretty reliable but it’s time for a few new upgrades especially with more of us out in the field at one time. 

“Upgrades?” Liz asks curiously, similar murmurs running through the crowd. 

“Charlie and I have been working on a bigger and better server for everyone to check in on that will send more consistent updates to me and everyone else on locations. If there’s an emergency the closest hunter to your location will be automatically notified and there will be a chain system so if I’m busy the call will go to other senior hunters who will be able to help. Just more streamlined and effective communication all the way around.”

It’s all very logical and makes sense, a good and safer system since it was getting a bit impractical for Sam to be on call for everyone all the time. Still, Corey gets a weird sinking feeling in his gut that he can’t seem to shake as Sam keeps on talking about how effective the new system will be. 

“Bathroom.” He excuses to Liz, slipping quietly away from the table. It’s only when he’s almost to the doorway that he notices Dean against the shadows of the back wall watching Sam. He’s smirking and the sinking feeling suddenly feels like he’s being stabbed.

…

His stomach settles and he tries to ignore whatever the hell he saw on Dean’s face that day and life goes back to normal. The new system works and saves a lot of time figuring out who’s closest to who for meetups and what not. It’s not until two weeks later that Corey sees the biggest flaw.

He’s in the middle of working a poltergeist which has never ever been his thing. Throw monsters at him all day long but magic and ghosts and shit that require rituals or spells and he’s way out of his depth. Still, he’d been the closest one in the area and the Liz always says he needs to work on expanding his horizons or whatever.

He thinks he’s doing pretty damn good all things considering but after doing the cleansing ritual the house is still making weird noises and he can see his breath despite the heating on full blast. He huffs, kicking the door in frustration before grabbing his bag and heading back out to the lawn to regroup.

He has his phone out before he can even think about it, dialling the bunker line and already feeling some of the pressure in his chest release with each ring as he stares up at the house. Stupid fucking ghosts. 

“What?”

 Corey gaps at the gruff very much not Sam voice on the other end of the line. “Bobby?”

“Hole in one. You got a reason for calling or just want to hold up my line?” 

“I – where’s Sam?”

“How the hell should I know? The new system routes the calls for us, I’m out in Vermont.” 

“Right.”

“… again kid, you need something?”

Corey shakes his head, getting his thoughts back together despite the sickening feeling back in his stomach. “Yeah, I need some help with this ritual I did … “

…

It’s the start of the new normal. Corey calls the bunker only to get an answer from Bobby, Garth, Jody, or even a few hunters he’s never even met before. They all do their best to help but none of them are Sam and each time the disappointment crushes him a little bit. Sam’s barely at the bunker anyway, out with Dean or that angel and kid more often then not. It feels like betrayal even though Sam’s still monitoring check in and constantly keeping tabs everyone. He’s supposed to be there for them, for Corey. Not Bobby or whoever the hell decides to answer the call. He stayed at the bunker to work as a hunter under Sam and now he’s lucky if he even gets a glance of the guy.

It’s getting ridiculous and he knows it but after having near unlimited access to Sam and then it just being cut off Corey feels like his parents just ripped away his security blanket and then shredded it in front of him. Liz is sympathetic but she hunted back in their original world, never quite relied on Sam the same way he did and doesn’t quite get the connection.

He knows he’s being childish but he can’t help it when he calls Sam’s personal cellphone number. He’s in the bunker working on a small case that’s giving him a bit of trouble and asking for help hacking a traffic cam should be right up Sam’s alley. Okay, trouble might be overstating it a bit, but hey, he’s getting desperate to get any sort of attention from the Chief.

He clicks randomly on his laptop as he listens to the phone ring, already planning on the easy catch up the two of them will have when the phone clicks to voice mail.

_“This is Sam, leave a message or try my brother Dean.”_

Corey’s never heard Sam’s voicemail before because even if he hasn’t been able to get through to him for the past few weeks Sam has never just not answered. That dark sick feeling in his stomach curls around his spine and he wants to throw up. After losing his family, his home, and even his fucking universe he really thought Sam who’d been his constant since he came here would be the one nice thing he gets to keep

He’s angry and he does stupid shit when he’s angry but he knows Sam’s somewhere in the bunker. He saw the Impala when he came in, knows that Sam doesn’t go anywhere without his fucking brother in that stupid car. 

He shuts his laptop and starts down the main hallway with his steps echoing a bit louder than usual. He has no idea what he’s going to say when he gets to Sam’s room, just knows that he wants to see him and get that little bit of reassurance he’s been missing since Dean showed up and threw a wrench in everyone’s normal.

He veers left down the small private hallway where he knows Sam’s room is despite having never actually gone down here before. The bunker is more than big enough for everyone to have a place to sleep but Sam has always stayed on the other side, away from the rest of the group’s quarters.

The hallway is big and empty, the rooms obviously filled with empty beds and it’s a bit creepy if he’s honest. He’d wonder why Sam would lock himself down here alone if he wasn’t so upset about the whole situation. 

He eyes the room numbers, knowing from their safety briefing which one is Sam’s. He stomps up to room twenty-one, raising his hand up to knock when a larger and roughly calloused one grabs it before he can knock his knuckles against the wood.

“What the hell- “ He turns, ready to throw a punch at whoever the hell is lurking down this empty hallway only to come face to face with a particularly unimpressed looking Dean Winchester.

“Pretty sure that’s my line,” Dean says dryly, dropping his hand but sidestepping to stand in front of the door, putting himself between it and Corey. “What do you want?”

He gaps a little, having not really figured out how to explain to Sam why he was stomping down his bedroom hallway yet and he has a feeling feeble excuses aren’t really going to hold up here. “What are you doing here?” He throws back instead.

Dean raises an eyebrow. “Corey, right?”

He nods mutely, a bit shocked that Dean knows his name.

“Thought so.” He holds up Sam’s phone, the missed call flashing on the screen. “So you call and then storm down here to see Sam, must have a pretty good reason for it? Because you wouldn’t just be calling and barging in here in the middle of the night for nothing?”

“I… I needed some help on a traffic camera.” He says weakly.

“Cool. Youtube it, there’s a million videos that’ll show you exactly what you need to do.”

“Well, that’s not really – “

Dean’s suddenly there, right up in his face and even if he’s shorter than Sam he still stands a good few inches over Corey the heat in his eyes make him want to shrivel up at his feet. “Right. Because you don’t need help with a fucking traffic light, you want to talk to Sam. You want to talk to Sam at one in the morning for no reason other than to have your precious feelings reassured. I know you call the hunter line practically every damn day trying to talk to him, night and day with no damn thought to what he’s doing.” Dean hisses, voice low and dripping with venom that stings with every word.

“I – I – “

“No. You don’t say anything. You shut up and listen because if you try and call him one more time and it isn’t a damn emergency – I’m talking last dying breathes – I will have your ass out of this bunker so fast you’ll never know what hit you. I know all you guys think he’s just waiting around hand and foot but he’s exhausted. He needs to sleep and eat and how the hell is he supposed to do that when Corey is calling in the middle of the night to be fucking tucked in?”

Dean’s hands come out and push him firmly away from the door, his feet stumbling underneath him as he tries to keep his balance. “I didn’t mean – I just wanted –“ He clears his throat, mortified and angry at somehow ending up in an argument outside Sam’s bedroom with Dean Winchester. “It’s not like that.”

“Great, then show me it isn’t and leave him the fuck alone when you don’t need him. Talk all you want in the bunker, but don’t try and act like it’s an emergency to get his attention. Sam doesn’t need that kind of extra stress.”  

He wants to argue, point out that Dean apparently gets to hog all the time he wants of Sam’s but before he can even open his mouth the Dean opens the door and slips inside. He just gets a glimpse of the dark bedroom, the light from the hallway slipping inside and highlighting a sleeping Sam passed out on the side of the bed and blankets tucked open on the other side. Like someone had just slipped out of bed.

Liz asks him later what happened, curious as she sits on the side of their shitty bunker mattress from the forties. She’s on Dean’s side he thinks vaguely.

She’s concerned of course when he manages to explain that who’d he’d run into but he can’t really get out exactly what it felt like to have Dean glaring at him. That slow sinking realization that had washed over him in less than a second of looking into the bedroom.

Liz rubs his chest though, comforting and soft as they lay together in bed and it makes him feel a bit better that she doesn’t push too hard. “God, he’s such an asshole. Hopefully, he gets gone soon.”

Corey laughs hollowly. “Yeah, I don’t think he’s going anywhere.”


	2. William

**William**  

He knows it’s fucked up, okay? You don’t have to tell him.

But so his is life. So is waking up one day to learn that angels are real and they’re really fucking mad and dead set on destroying the earth.

So is holding his little brother who’s just been shotgunned through the stomach. So is having no fucking hospitals around because everything’s gone to shit so there’s no one to make him better. No one to make the pain go away. No one but him to watch every agonizing wheeze come from little brother’s chest.

So is having to end it yourself because little brother held your hand and looked up at you with those big hazel eyes and said please.

So yeah, Will’s no stranger to fucked up situations. He vowed to kill every last angel who took his little brother away from him and was fully planning on going out guns blazing but one fight with the devil later and he’s here. In this new place where angels are still a fun little Sunday school story.

He’s not really that impressed with the whole thing. There’s a bunker and now Michael is on the loose again  - literally a broken record at this point – and he figures his best bet is to go out and hunt on his own but then he comes face to face with familiar big hazel eyes and suddenly he can’t quite make it out the door.

Sam isn’t Christian, Will knows that this big hunter who’s playing leader isn’t his brother. But apparently whoever poor soul Michael was running around in is the Kids’ brother and well, Will has always had a weak spot for big hazel eyes on little brother’s.

He doesn’t even mean to stay, just kind of ends up lingering around because this guy – _Sam_ \--   needs a bit of help. He’s doing great, obviously in the middle of a breakdown over the loss of Dean but holding together and leading their little group but even in the first weak Will can tell the kid is running himself into an early grave.

“Hey.” He says gently, walking into the kitchen where Sam has made himself comfortable at the bar. It’s three in the morning and despite the heavy bags under his eyes, the kid is still typing away at the computer with a mug of coffee next to him.

Sam gives him a smile – dimples. The kid has dimples. Will feels his heart constrict a little and if he had any second thoughts they’re gone now as he moves to take a seat down at the bar. “We haven’t met properly, but I’m sure you’re probably used to have a bunch of randoms in your house.” He grins. “I’m – “

“ – William.” Sam supplies, surprising him. “We didn’t meet in the camp but you gave my mom a jacket for me to wear after mine was ruined. Only guy big enough to share clothes with.”

It’s sweet and he can already tell that Sam’s got a big heart for remembering a split second interaction. And what was he supposed to do? He rarely meets people who come close to his height so it was more of a curiosity than anything to supply the jacket. Sam comes up just a few inches short to his 6'8 height and while built sturdy he’s definitely leaning more toward the lean body camp. He thinks it suits him though, most people describe Will as built like a tank which just makes him sound like an asshole.

“I go by Will.” He grins, leaning across the bar to grab his own cup. “Sam short for Samuel? You might know my pain." 

“Yeah, never really took though. I’m named after my grandfather so I think my dad wasn’t super set on calling me by that.” He smiles slightly, hands pausing on the keyboard and Will takes that as a good sign. “My family always tried to call me Sammy though, and I was pretty against that so yeah, I can relate.”

“So Sammy, what are you working on this late?”

Sam raises an eyebrow but turns the computer. “Well, _William,_ I’m pretty sure if we’re going to have all these hunters in and out of here we’re going to need to come up with a system to keep track of them.”

He nods, looking over the screen. “We had something similar back at base, I might be able to help with that.”

And the rest is history.

They get on like a house fire and he’s lying if he says it doesn’t soothe some of that ache inside of him for Christian. Sam’s got his own aches too though and he thinks that maybe if they lean on each other they can just get through this.

He's dead set on bringing back his brother, works night and day to try and figure out a way to separate him from Michael or even just get a glimpse of where he’s currently at. Will helps because well, he can always get behind a plan to torch the asshole archangel but he does it more to support Sam than any real hope in the plan.

Archangel’s are stubborn sons of bitches if this war has taught him anything and there’s no way Sam’s brother isn’t anything but dead inside that husk Michael’s waltzing around in.

So they keep working and eventually a little system works its way into being. They’ve got their regulars in the bunker and in between hunting down Michael they start taking on weirder cases. Sam takes him out on a little salt and burn on the way back from a lead on Dean and he’d be lying if said it wasn’t a bit of a rush.

Both of them are a little jagged with edges made to fit someone else but this thing they’ve got going is nice none the less.

Then he gets a text from Sam while he’s down in New Mexico that they found him. That Dean's home.

He’s grinning so hard he’s sure the cars passing him think he’s a lunatic as he flips around on the middle of the high way to head back.

Good things apparently do happen because if anyone should get their big brother back it was Sam. Heaven knows the kid needed a win and Will can’t wait to meet the dude, wants to give a firm handshake and share a beer with the guy who helped raise up the man that was Sam Winchester.

He gets to the bunker and everyone’s spirits are high, Sam’s happiness obviously contagious. It only takes a brief search before he finds them in the library, Sam’s beaming smile as he sits on the desk making Will’s heart squeeze fondly.

And there sitting with his back turned must be Dean. He’s seen a few pictures around the place, mostly in the handful of times he’s been in Sam’s room but it’s nothing on the real deal. Sam might be tall but Dean is built like Will, solid and able to take a good punch without staggering. He’s handsome and scarred up, reminds him of several of his military buddies and when he reaches a hand out he can feel the familiar trace of gun callouses against his palm.

“I’m Will, great to have you back dude.” He grins but as soon as he mentions his name he can see Dean shift. The neutral expression sliding into something much more severe and Will suddenly feels like he’s under a microscope. The hand around his squeezes tightly and if Will didn’t know any better he’d say it was a threat.  

“Will.” Dean says finally, dropping his hand. “Sammy here has told me a lot about you.” There’s an edge to his voice, something Will can’t quite get his head around. Still, this guy means the world to Sam and Will will support whatever makes him this happy.

“Yeah, been through hell together the past few weeks.” He grins. “Sammy’s a fighter though, ain't nothing going to take him down. I just sit back and watch.” He jokes, reaching over to ruffle Sam’s hair, grinning at Sam’s fond eye roll. He turns his grin to Dean, meet an expression so sour his grin falters slightly. What the fuck was this dude’s deal?

Dean holds his expression for a long moment as Sam combs his hair back and honestly Will has no idea what the fuck is going on. He wants Dean to know this his little brother was looked after while he was gone, is that really such a horrible thing? Maybe Michael scattered his brains more than Sam’s letting on.

He shrugs because the guy did just come out of long term angelic possession and he gets a social out if there ever is one. He doesn’t want to ruin anyone’s mood so he gives Dean a friendly smile and Sam a lingering pat on the back before leaving them to enjoy each other’s company.

If Dean was weird that first night he’s downright unfriendly in the weeks that follow. Will would chalk it up to possession or trauma or any number of excuses but at this point, he thinks the guy may just be weird.

Will so much as touches Sam he’s getting eyes boring into his back and scowls that would make his grandmother gasp. He’s never been so aware of eyes on him in a room before he met Dean and had them practically catching his clothes on fire.

“Good job.” He grins at Sam after a hunt, reaching down to pat his back and as soon as his hand has lifted Dean is there. The space Will had occupied for half a second is suddenly covered by Dean’s arm as he firmly wraps it around Sam’s shoulders and gives Will a look that says just about everything in their relationship ‘back the fuck off’.

He hands Sam a cup of coffee over breakfast and Dean is jumping up to get him the milk and honey he likes in it. He tells Sam his jeans are getting way too worn out and to borrow a pair of his if he needs to and Dean nearly breaks a leg getting up to get Sam sorted with a new pair.

He gets that maybe it’s a brother thing, Dean feeling uncomfortable with Will’s place in Sam’s life so he tries to fix that first.

“Hey man,” He starts, timing it right as Dean got back from the garage and the bunker most empty for a good man to man chat. “have a minute?”

Dean grunts something that doesn’t sound negative so he takes that as a yes, following him into the kitchen.

  
“So, I know we haven’t gotten off on the best foot and I can’t help but feel maybe I did something to cause that?” He starts, aiming for diplomatic as he watches Dean dig around in the fridge.

No response.

“I know he’s your little brother and I would never try to come between that. Sam and I just have a good time together but we’d never get between what you two have. I mean, I was ecstatic when I heard you were back. I knew how much it meant to him.”  

If anything Dean looks even more pissed off when he closes the fridge and at this point, Will has no idea what the fuck Dean’s problem is.

“Listen, William.” Dean starts, pulling out some bread. “It’s great you think you and my brother have some sort of cute little connection but Sam’s a big boy and can handle himself.”

“I never said he couldn’t. I just thought you’d like to know that he had someone watching his back. You know, since you weren’t.”

It’s a low blow but at this point he’s tired of playing whatever game Dean’s pushing him into. He wants to be friends for Sam’s sake but he’s not going to take Dean’s bullshit.

He gets that it’s only been the two of them for a long time but is it really so horrible that Will wants to look after Sam too? That Dean has another guy watching out for his little brother? As a big brother himself, he just can’t wrap his head around what the problem is.

At least he couldn’t until Sam left his phone in his truck.

They’d just gone out for a supply run, nothing fancy and in between trips to drop the bags off inside the bunker his phone must have fallen into the seat well. He’s only a few miles outside of Lebanon, heading to a hunt in South Carolina when the vibrations alert him its there.

He pulls off to the dirt shoulder of the road and parks, fishing his hand down to try and locate the source when he catches on Sam’s iPhone in the hard military case and shakes his head fondly. He’s about to tuck it into the dash and head back when it vibrates again, the screen lighting up with a long string of messages. From Dean.

Will never claimed to be a saint.

He leans back in the seat and curiously scrolls to the bottom of the messages on the home screen. Sam had mentioned that Dean was with Castiel looking into something out of state and Will guesses this is how he spends his downtime when they’re apart; blowing up his little brother’s phone.

He grins fondly, remembering doing the same to Christian and he can’t help but read some of the messages, curious as to who this Dean was that Sam looks up to so much because he wasn’t the Dean Will had been dealing with.

 

_-I fucking hate Arkansas_

_-Not one room in this damn place has AC. I’m sweating my fucking balls off._

_-What’s the story with you and your little merry band of hunters then? They all good? Are you all good?_

_-Seriously, Sam. You better be sleeping tonight, baby. You promised._

 

Will stares at that message a long time, the artificial light of the phone making spots appear in his vision as he read over the sentence again. Baby? Could be an inside joke, just them using stupid terms of endearment for each other.

 

_-Don’t set any alarms, lock the damn door, and send me a picture of you in your pyjamas under two blankets before midnight. I’m not there to drag you to bed so you’re going to have to do it for me tonight and I’m going to be pissed if I hear you stayed up all night._

_-I left two sleeping pills on your nightstand, take them if you need them and make sure you eat something!_

_-I’m not joking around here, Sam. I’m sure Will cooked you up a nice little meal so you can go eat that. Dude wants to go on a date with you so bad._

 

Will raises an eyebrow, out of all the reasons he thought Dean didn’t like him wanting to date Sam was probably the very last. Not that Sam wasn’t a catch but he assumed he didn’t swing that way and Will had a hard time seeing him as anything other than a little brother. Him and Dean were going to need to have another chat when he got back. It’s the end of the messages, Dean’s little babbling put to an end and Will feels comfortable he has a better insight on how to make things better with Dean when the phone starts to vibrate again as multiple messages pop up in succession.  

 

_-Sorry, I’m being a dick. I know you like him. I’m just having a shit time over here, please don’t ignore me._

_-Please, Sammy._

_-C’mon. Don’t ignore me over this._

_-I miss you._

_-Like a fucking lot. Haven’t been apart this long since Michael and I forgot how much it sucks to not get to sleep with you._

_-You like what you’re turning me into? A fucking sap is what it is. And it’s your fault._

_-I miss your ass too just for the record. It’s not all just me crying into my pillow about how much I love you over here. Fucking nearly broke my dick off thinking about sinking into your ass a few minutes ago._

Will drops the phone so fast he’s afraid it breaks but the phone keeps vibrating against the floor of his truck as more messages come through. He keeps the phone facing down as he picks it up again, having no desire to read any more of what Dean’s spouting off.

It’s as comforting as it is disturbing to know that Dean wasn’t misinterpreting his brotherly feelings for Sam at all. The problem just being that he still saw them as a threat. 


	3. Grace

**Grace**

 

Grace remembers the first time she met Dean Winchester.

She’d known Mary for awhile, a good fighter and they’d bonded over their hunting backgrounds. A bit funny to think that they’d been working in the shadows their whole lives and when the world finally catches wind of the supernatural its for something their skills are utterly useless against. Mary reminded her of her mother and back then the wound was still so fresh she can admit now that she’d followed her around a bit like a lost puppy.

Mary had told her about her dead husband and Grace had opened up about watching her mother go down fighting an angel garrison. “I have two sons back in the other universe,” She’d said after, a positive note to bring up the gloom. “Dean and Sam.”

She hadn’t needed to wait long after that for the oldest to come trotting through camp. She’d been at that tree line, finger itching for the trigger of her gun on the rouge angels when Mary had broken through and run to embrace the tallest one. Dean.

He was… something. Depressed would be the first word that came to mind. That or an asshole if she was feeling particularly honest. She’s seen loss before, almost every day in camp someone didn’t make it back but with Dean, it seemed to hang around his neck. He barely hugged Mary, the son she couldn’t stop talking about the entire time she was here.

Mary was obviously concerned but Dean wasn’t interested in being comforted, seemed to thrive on the exact opposite. The two angel companions - Castiel and Gabriel she later found out - were in mourning but not cut off from the group. They understood the bigger picture of a war going on and alternate universe travel being a slightly more pressing issue.

She remembers how disgusted she’d been. That this man could just waltz in and act like he was the only one who’d ever lost a loved one before. She’d heard him near the kitchen, being short with his mom who seemed to be the only voice of reason in any of Dean’s plans. He’d been talking about Sam; going to find Sam, going to rescue his body, going to bring him back to camp for a proper pyre. 

That last one had been Mary. Dean had been weirdly quiet on the pyre part of the plan.

She had wanted to wait because obviously, no one should go traversing through a vampire infested cave when they were in the middle of a war zone and especially not to retrieve a body. This was war. She can’t even remember the last time they lost someone on a mission and were able to bring them back. Dean needed to grow up.

Then Sam had stumbled his way in, tall and blood splattered and looking like something out of mythology. Odysseus rising from the underworld except he was in their camp so maybe he hadn’t quite reached the surface yet.

That was the last time she’d really seen Dean, everything after that a bit of a mess of angel possession and adjusting to a new universe. Needless to say, when he showed back up at the bunker it was a bit of a surprise.

No one really knows what to do with him. He’s a hunter and there’s an instinctual recognition of one of their own but also that weird reek of something wrong with him. Something unnatural. Angel or otherwise, Dean has a lot more going on under the surface and it makes everyone a bit uneasy.

Grace blinks up from her cereal to see him stumble into the kitchen, half asleep and wearing what looks like boxers and a loose t-shirt. She’s not proud of it but she stiffens; no one really likes to be alone with Dean and she’s not any better.

He doesn’t seem to notice she’s there, eyes barely open as he fumbles with the coffee maker. She might get lucky, maybe he’ll get his cup and leave without seeing her and she’ll be able to sink into the wall without any sort of awkward eye contact. The kind that comes with two people living together who want nothing to do with each other. The special kind Dean seems to share with everyone he passes in the hallway.

She stays still and with his body angled away from her she gets a chance to really look at Dean Winchester. The boxers ride low on his hips and she can see the muscles in his back through the t-shirt. He’s toned, a hunter’s body though she wonders how he keeps that up considering she’s only ever seen him sit on his ass all day or disappear to who knows where in the bunker. 

Her eyes scan up, that close cropped hair of his is a mess. Seems the great and powerful Dean Winchester is still a victim to bedhead which almost makes her snicker into her cereal but she pulls it together. It’s just funny to think this big bad hunter who seems to think he’s too good to talk to any of them and too skilled for any of their hunts has –

Oh. 

_Oh._

Because there’s bedhead and then there’s _bedhead_. And Dean most certainly has the later unless he rolls so much in bed it clumps his hair together in the back. No, Grace knows sex hair and he is sporting a prime example of the clumpy mess that comes with someone passionately knotting their fingers in it, even a style as short as Dean’s. Upon closer inspection, she can see the purpling of a mouth sized bruise just peeking from the collar of his shirt. It’s so weirdly human coming from a man who she isn’t even sure has a soul most of the time she cracks a grin before it hits her. 

Someone in the bunker is fucking Dean Winchester.

They might all not know what to do with Dean but she’s also pretty sure half of them have imagined having a hate fuck with him at some point. He’s handsome if you can get past the whole angel possession, bad attitude, and general lack of interest in anything. But there’s still an unspoken agreement that no one would actually do it. She’s never even seen anyone have a conversation longer than ten words with the guy.

It feels like betrayal even if it’s stupid. It’s just sex, and sex with Dean Winchester so it can’t mean anything. But she knows Dean is straight and she really thought herself close to all the other woman in the bunker and that none of them would tell her they apparently have a thing for him …

“You shouldn’t grind your teeth.” Dean yawns sleepily with his back till to her. Even half asleep he still sounds like a smug asshole.

…

So maybe finding out who Dean’s sleeping with becomes a bit of an obsession. Just a small one. 

But how can it not when they sit around in the ladies’ bunk room laughing about him and knowing that one of them has fucked the guy they’re talking shit about? 

“Ugh did you hear him when he got back with Sam? They were off on some research hunt thing apparently but I swear to god he looked right at me and rolled his eyes. I wasn’t even doing anything! No hello, not even like a grunt of acknowledgement. He literally just rolled his eyes at like, my general presence.”

They’re all giggling and it’s fun and light hearted except Grace can’t stop looking over their faces for any kind of tell that they might not like the tone of conversation.

“I saw him in the kitchen the other day.” She starts, sipping her beer as she attempts for a casual gaze around the room to catalog their faces. “He was just wearing his boxers and god –  has anyone ever noticed how tight an ass he has? Might be nice to try just once.” 

“Grace!”

“Oh my god- Dean?”

The shouts are immediate and she’d be lying if the mix of shock, disgust, and laughter across the room aren’t a relief. She doesn’t know who Dean has in his bed but she’s pretty sure it’s not anyone she’s close to.

It does make it a bit awkward to continue the search though. There’s a few other women who come and go on a much looser schedule like Charlie except she’s not into guys and that witch woman who’s somehow allowed a free pass despite the fact that they hunt witches. Maybe fuck buddy status with Dean get’s you a few free perks. 

Neither of them were here that night though. She’s starting to consider that maybe it was just a one night stand – though even Dean wouldn’t be that irresponsible to bring a civilian back to the secret bunker. Nothing is really out of the question though and the fact that Dean’s hickeys never quite fade now that’s she’s actually looking for them just makes her more curious of who exactly is in his bed.

Then the vampires happen.

She’d had it under control, had gone into the cave expecting the small group of three vamps she’d scouted out earlier. Sam had been in the area and dropped by to assist and she had been so excited to show off for him, set herself apart a bit from the others in his eyes. She doesn’t need approval from anyone but she can’t help but crave that look of pride Sam gets in his eyes when they report a job well done.

It had gone great. He’d let her take point, watching her back as she worked the room and managed to take out all three. He was grinning at her in that way that made her stomach flutter and god she probably has a load of Daddy issues – when his eyes had widened and he made a move for his machete but it was too late. Grace feeling a sharp pain against her temple before everything went black.

Which was how they ended up here.

“Fuck.” She hisses, pulling at the chains keeping her wrists bound above her head. The cuffs were linked through a mining lamp drilled into the rock of the cave but she still needed to stay on her tiptoes to keep the metal from cutting deeper into her skin.

Sam’s hands were at a lot more reasonable level – fuck him and his stupid height – but none the less chained. They weren’t going anywhere.

“I didn’t move fast enough, I counted seven before they got me down.” Sam murmurs and even in the midst of her rising panic, his voice is still calm and soothing. She holds onto that, letting it push down the anxiety at the thought of trying to take down an entire family of vampires. She’s hunted a long time but never anything like this.

 “I can’t get out of the cuffs.” She admits, flexing her wrists but the angle is wrong, not enough leverage to break her thumb.

“That’s alright.” Sam murmurs, flexing his own wrists. “We’re going to be fine Grace, Dean’s in town and knows that I went to meet you.”

She groans, head falling against her arm. Great. So their lives were resting on Dean Winchester actually getting off his ass and helping? Not likely.

“They’re keeping us alive for something.” He frowns, eyeing the cave walls but it’s so dark, the lamps they’re chained to barely illuminating the dirt ground at their feet. “Do you know if any of the victims were kept alive?” 

“For blood? Like cows or something?” She winces at the thought but shakes her head. “No, all the vics were found in town. They fed where they killed them then dined and dashed.”

“I don’t like this.” He tugs firmly at his wrists but the lamp doesn’t budge. “It’s a set up for something.”

“We can’t just wait here for them to come back.” She points out, glancing over at him.

“I know, I’m thinking – “ But he never gets the chance to finish, footsteps echoing through the cave as a few of the vampires step through the shadows.

“Well, well what a surprise. Two hunters for the price of one.” The older one- the leader Grace recognizes as he steps toward them. “We’re truly delighted to have you for dinner.”

“Corny.” Grace scrunches her nose.

“Overused.” Sam agrees.

“Always with the quips, your breed is so mouthy.” He growls, stepping forward and grabbing a hold of Sam’s jaw. “Let’s see if we can quiet you down a bit.” He leans forward, razor sharp teeth lowering and Grace kicks out against the vampires closest to her, straining against her chains to do something – to do anything!

The vampire’s teeth just barely graze skin when the screaming starts.

He jerks back, glancing at the two others who look frighteningly toward where she supposes the mouth of the cave is but it’s too dark for her to see either way. It’s confirmed though when three more vamps run in, only these ones are covered in blood.

No one even gets a chance to ask what’s happening when the head of one of the blood splattered vampires is sliced clean off, landing at the feet of the leader while still spurting blood and as the body crumples Dean Winchester stands behind it holding his machete.

That’s when everything turns to chaos.

She should be concerned with trying to get out of the cuffs or at least avoiding the flurry of vampires running around the room but instead, her eyes are lock on Dean.

There are at least seven vampires in here, maybe more and he’s still in complete control. She was wrong before, when she talked about Dean not showing any emotion, she knows that now that she can see the difference. Because while Dean may be disinterested in the bunker it’s nothing on the cold darkness in his eyes as he mercilessly slices through two vampires begging for their lives without a second of hesitation.

Grace has known a lot of hunters but she’s never seen one move quite like this. Never seen someone single handedly cut down six vampires in under ten minutes either and she has to remind herself to close her gaping mouth when Dean’s next kill splatters over her clothes with a scream. 

“Don’t move!” The lead vampire stands next to Sam, fingers splattered in the blood of his dead family members and now dangerously close to Sam’s clenched lips. “I’ll do it, hunter. Drop that little toy of yours. 

Dean wordlessly drops the machete. He’s no less dangerous though and by the falter of the vampire, Grace thinks he knows it too. She’s hunted a lot of monsters but she’s never come across anything as frightening as Dean Winchester standing in a cave covered in the blood of the entire vampire clan he just killed and eyes hungry for one more.

“You… You’re going to let me walk out of here.” The vampire says slowly, eyeing the mouth of the cave.

“How about you move your hand away from my brother’s mouth.” He’s unnervingly calm. Bored even if not for the twitching snarl to his lips. This is a predator lulling in its prey.  

The vampire swallows audibly, hand just noticeably trembling above Sam’s lips. “I will when you let me go.”

“Then go.” Dean raises an eyebrow. A challenge.

He twitches forward but Dean’s faster, as soon as his hands are gone from Sam’s face he pounces. Hands lock around the thick cords of the vampire’s neck who barely has time for a scream of “Please!” before Grace watches Dean twist and rip his head clean off.

It’s the most badass thing she’ll ever see in her life. She already knows. This right here, nothing else will beat it.

She stares at the head, a bit drunk on the whole ordeal and head still reeling with the adrenalin rush when she hears her name. 

“Dean – I’m fine -  go do Grace first.”

She pulls her gaze away from the blood bath to see Dean hovering in front of Sam who kicks him which seems to make him move – ah over to her. She expects to see the cold facade that had just taken down the vampire but instead, he just looks a little flushed and his eyebrows knit in concern.

“Fuck, that’s got to hurt.” Dean winces at her wrists, blood dripping from where all the movement and her full weight on the chains had cut through the tender skin. “It’s going to take a minute for me to cut through, here – " 

He ducks down, putting her thighs on his shoulders – fuck they really were strong that t-shirt wasn’t lying – and lifting her up to take the weight off her wrists. The chain drops low enough he can reach up to saw through it while holding her comfortably.

She wants to say something. “Wow um, that was – thanks.”

Not really what she was going for but close enough.

“Don’t mention it.” The chain clatters to the ground and she’s quickly put down along with it. “We’ve got a lock pick in the car, we’ll do your wrists when we get out.”

“Thanks – “ She repeats but her voice falls on empty ears, Dean already back across the cave to Sam before he even finishes her sentence.

“Fucking hell, I can’t even go out for beer without you getting in trouble.” He growls at Sam but it’s all play and no bite now that she’s seen the other side.

“Yeah, yeah, took you long enough.”

Sam’s chains fall to the ground next and then Dean’s gripping him by his shoulders and helping him to his feet. “You hurting? Open your mouth, did that bastard get any in?" 

“No, I’m fine – “ Sam’s cut off as Dean is suddenly pushing fingers into his mouth as if that would help anything if there is any blood in there. The whole thing is a bit insane considering they’re standing in a cave full of bodies but it weirdly puts her at ease to watch them be so casual after how close this one was.

Sam spits Dean’s fingers out and there’s a tense moment between the two of them before Dean’s pulling Sam down in against his chest, gripping him so tightly she can see where his fingers are digging into skin from where she’s standing.

“You don’t get to just disappear like that, remember? We made a rule.” Dean’s voice is soft from where his head presses against Sam's, obviously not meant for her to hear but in the quiet of the cave it wasn’t hard to pick up on it.

“You made a rule, I never agreed to it. I can’t exactly control who takes away my phone. And I thought you promised you were going to wait for backup before just running headfirst into vampire caves?”

“Was under a bit of a time crunch, my annoying little brother was stuck inside.”

There’s soft laughter- Sam’s she recognizes even if she can’t see from how close their heads are tucked together. It’s sweet and a little weirdly intimate for siblings but who is she to judge after the intensity of what just happened.

She turns to examine the cuffs, trying to figure out how easy they’ll be to unlock or if they’ll have to cut them off when she hears it. Soft, quick, and if she hadn’t been obsessing over it for the past few weeks she would have never paid it any attention.

The familiar slip of spit and mouths brushing against each other in the quickest of kisses before pulling back. Her head whips around so fast she’s nearly dizzy with it, staring at the two but they’ve already separated. Dean is grinning, smacking Sam on the back who’s rolling his eyes and it’s normal, perfectly normal with nothing to give away that the two of them had done anything out of the ordinary.

She almost believes it. 

But Dean’s hand sits a little too low on Sam’s back as he guides them out of the cave and she’s pretty sure Dean didn’t come in with the newest glistening bruise just peeking out from his shirt. Right about where Sam’s head had been tucked into.

She doesn't know what she should be feeling exactly but relief is what hits her first which yeah, is probably all different shades of fucked up. But hey, it's not one of the girls. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow wow the reaction to this was such a surprise, I literally wrote it just to satisfy my own little hunger for the hunters perspective on Dean. Thank you for everyone who encouraged this and wanted more! It's nice to know I'm not the only one who has a thing for outsiders pov and wincest haha. If anyone has suggestions on what they'd like to see feel free to drop them below :)


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